All the Difference
by HecateA
Summary: From arcades to dining halls to principia, some of Jason's life tips and some of Reyna's big realisations. Oneshot.


**Good old fashioned twenty page unapologetic uncannon Jeyna like I haven't written in a while. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the following characters of loactions- save Mel, Joelle, Seth and the Circus. **

**Dedication: To SilverMoonGrimm who asked for Reyna secretly keeping a token of Jason on her while he's missing. **

* * *

**All the Difference **

Reyna felt her eyes get heavier and heavier but she didn't stop working. It wasn't just anybody who got brought into the _principia_ to help when the praetors were overworked, and so Reyna wasn't going to let her hyperactivity blow this for her. It was an honour, therefore not something that Reyna was going to blow.

"I finished," she told Joelle.

Joelle looked up from the very old manuscript that she was studying with a magnifying glass.

"Even the cross-references to unhonoured soldiers?" Joelle asked surprised.

"It's all here," Reyna said pushing the list of New Roman Veterans towards her. Joelle grabbed the bunch of paper and read through.

"Fantastic. Here's the list of entries and exits in New Rome that Jason collected from Terminus, see if any names reappear," Joelle said.

"Wait," Mel said looking from Reyna to Jason confused. "Have you two met?"

Reyna and Jason looked up at each other. Jason was going through dusty reports, pages so old that the paper crinkled. She'd seen him around the fort, of course; so she recognised his face from his startling blue eyes to his the scar above his lip. He was one of the more powerful demigods, and so she'd heard his name before as well.

"We've seen each other around," Jason said.

They'd dueled during a war game once; their cohorts had been partnered up in a training exercise. Apart from that…

"Good. It would've been pretty rude of us to shove you both in here without an introduction," Mel said. He got up. "I'll go on a coffee run. Jo, the usual?"

"Yes please."

"Jason, Reyna- do you two need anything?"

"No thank you," Jason said. Reyna nodded in agreement.

"Alright," Mel said. "Come on, girl," he said.

The silver dog, which had curled up on Reyna's shoes, came to life with a bark and followed Mel out of the _principia. _

* * *

Reyna ate quietly. The group of girls from her cohort –Amelia, Jade and Serena- weren't exactly friendly, nor were they interesting. Low, shallow and rather dull-witted actually.

"I would _die _for an invitation to that wedding," Serena said- speaking of the marriage of two ex-praetors.

Octavian passed by the table, late for supper for some reason. There was a piece of stuffing clinging to his sleeve. He shot Reyna a nasty look as she walked by.

"What would you even wear?" Jade asked. "They don't let us wear pretty things out here."

"I don't know, but I'd find something," Serena said.

Reyna couldn't wrap her head around the idea that you'd want to go to a wedding willingly, especially not for people that you didn't know. But praetors were important here, she supposed.

* * *

Joelle had gone down to the dungeons- she had to find something in one of the cells that'd been converted to a storage room.

Jason looked up from his work and rubbed his eyes.

"There's too much dust in here," he said.

Reyna nodded. "Too busy to clean, I suppose."

"That would make sense," Jason said. "By the way, thanks a ton."

"For what?" Reyna frowned. They hadn't talked much the last two times that Joelle and Mel had grabbed them and put them to work, nor had they talked outside the _principia_.

"Well, usually Mel drags in Octavian when they need forced labour," Jason said rolling his eyes. "You are _much _better company."

"That doesn't say much," Reyna said. The nasty look she'd gotten at supper regularly made sense now.

Jason laughed. "Suppose not. What about this; you're good company."

"Better," Reyna said. "I have to answer with 'you're not so bad yourself', do I?"

"Well I'd appreciate it," Jason said. "Although I guess that constructive criticism is nice."

It was Reyna's turn to laugh.

"Enjoying yourselves?" Joelle asked coming back up the stairs with a box in her hands.

They both regained their composure. The praetors' guardian dogs were hovering around Joelle's feet. They'd probably snitched on Jason and Reyna for talking.

"Oh no, it's fine!" Joelle said quickly. She made Reyna think of a doll- her face was pale and smooth like china, pretty as if it were painted on. However nobody would try playing any games with Joelle, that was for sure. She'd made a name for herself, and with Mel too. The best praetor pair since the Michael Varus incident.

"Gods know that with this spy business anyone who can get a laugh anywhere at all is more than welcome," Joelle said. "Speaking of which, Jason, I need a bad joke right about now."

"What do you get when you cross the Titanic with the Atlantic Ocean?" Jason asked.

"I don't know," Joelle said.

Jason shrugged. "About half-way."

They were both killing themselves. Joelle squeezed Jason's shoulders in a hug.

"Gods, you've been pulling these out of nowhere for me since you were, like, four. Don't know how you do it."

Jason grinned fondly.

* * *

"This isn't funny," Centurion Oliver said. "These- these attacks in the barracks. What are you trying to do? Give us the same reputation as the fifth?"

"No, Centurion," everyone, Reyna included, chorused.

"Really?" Oliver huffed. "I couldn't tell. Neither could the healers, the five people in the infirmary, or the legionnaires who saw what kind of a mess you all are. Push-ups until I say to stop. _Now." _

* * *

"Hey Reyna," Jason called out to her when the fourth cohort got back from their drills. He waved her over. She frowned but walked up to him- they didn't talk outside of the _principia,_ although they seemed to get along really well. There just wasn't much interaction between a legionnaire from the Fifth and a legionnaire from, well, anywhere else.

"I get that a lot of cohorts bond by bitching about their centurions after forced exercise," he said. "But I don't think that that's the case for yours. Wanna sit with us?"

He was sitting with a group of kids from the fifth cohort- Bobby, the one who was good with the elephant, Dakota, the one with the red stains around his mouth all the time, and Gwen, the girl who called everyone sweetheart and acted like one.

"If it's not too much trouble," Reyna said relieved. She wouldn't be able to withstand all the nonsense chatter about the push-ups. A lack of discipline was a lack of discipline, and the Centurions were only doing their job to correct it- that's what she thought of all of this.

Gwen sat up. "We can share the lounger today."

"Thank you," Reyna said sitting down as the nymphs whisked in with plates. Reyna's comfort food was in front of her in seconds- buttery noodles with snow peas and avocado chunks and spinach, Hylla made it all the time before. She used to sneak more butter than Circe allowed to be consumed in an entire day in the pan. That small rebellion was part of what made the dish awesome.

"You're at the right table," Bobby grinned.

They were all eating pasta. Gwen had a homey serving of spaghetti and meat balls right in front of her, Jason was twirling a pasta so doused in alfredo sauce that it was unidentifiable around his fork after pushing all the chicken to the side, Bobby's bowtie pasta was visibly buttery with a hunk of salmon plopped on top, and half of Dakota's Spaghetti-O's had already disappeared.

"Great," Reyna smiled.

* * *

She beat most of the girls to the shower (she had tons of practise from living at C.C.'s) and was dressed quickly. She was just making her bed and straightening out her quarters when everything started.

"Great job buccaneer," someone said.

Reyna's blood chilled and she dropped her sheets before turning around.

"Pardon me?" She asked the legionnaire behind her. It was Amelia.

"I just thought you should be congratulated," Amelia said. "You're too good to sit with us at dinner, and now it's like you're so good at cleaning too…"

"Before that," Reyna said. "_What _did you call me?"

She had shivers that wouldn't stop. Suddenly she felt so hot, the temperature weighed her down. She cornered Amelia against her bunk.

"I-"

"No, don't be a coward now," Reyna said. "What did you call me?"

"It was a joke," Amelia said.

"It was _not_ a joke," Reyna growled. "You are disgusting."

"Back off."

"You were so lucky, growing safe and sound and privileged in New Rome, the only thing to be bitter about is that your recommendation letters didn't get you in a higher cohort, and now you're making _jokes _about other people's pasts? About people you never actually talked to, who showed up with no letters out of hell? How can you call yourself a-"

Amelia punched Reyna in the eye. Reyna grabbed Amelia's arms, ducked under one of them, wrapped her arms around her and swept her legs out. Amelia fell and Reyna landed, knees sprawled, on top of her. She flipped Amelia around and pinned her.

"_Really?" _Reyna asked. "Did you _actually_ _punch me?" _

The female centurion and one of the other girls pulled Reyna away, and Serena and Jade held Amelia back.

"You're a freak!" Amelia said.

"Not as much as you!" Reyna yelled back.

They dragged her out of the barracks.

* * *

Her centurion dumped her in the _principia_, had a quick word with the praetors and left. Jason stood awkwardly in the door. He tried to look away and make himself small and invisible, but he kept meeting Reyna's eyes and trying to judge if she was okay. Reyna only nodded softly once, and he stopped inquiring. He went back to trying to reconnect with a part of him that was a chameleon.

Mel sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"The fourth cohort is falling apart," he said shaking his head. "We'll excuse the incident on the grounds of post-traumatic stress. But only this once, so don't do it again Reyna."

"I didn't want to hurt anybody," Reyna said. She didn't care how many crunches or suicides they made her do, she just wanted to make sure that they knew that she hadn't meant it in case Amelia had knocked her head or something.

"We know," Mel said. "I think that everyone in your damn _cohort _knows too. You're a good kid, I'm not sending you back there- not today."

Reyna didn't argue.

Joelle got up. "You can stay with us for today. Cool off, we'll put you to work again. Jason, you had something to tell us?"

Jason seemed to get back to reality with a start.

"Centurion Amanda wanted to let you know that there's a new graffiti on one of our barracks."

"The boy's again?"

"No, the girl's this time."

"Great. What does it look like?"

"An eagle," Jason said.

"Is it a nice eagle?"

"So-so," Jason said. "Like, on a scale of one to ten, I think that it's a four."

"Well great, there's not even that," Joelle sighed. "Even better and better. You two, stay here. Skip muster, give the dogs a bath and dust the bookshelves. That's an order."

"Yes Jo- Praetor," Jason and Reyna both said.

The praetors walked out of the _principia_ and Jason materialised two toasts wrapped in a napkin from his pocket.

"I heard that you were here. Snuck you some breakfast," he explained.

"Thanks," Reyna said. "Did you have any?"

"I never eat breakfast."

"That's not good for you," she said.

"I never liked it," he said defensively.

"Have at least half of this," Reyna said ripping a slice in two.

"No, it's yours."

"So I can decide to give you half," Reyna said.

Jason rolled his eyes and had half a piece of toast.

And he didn't ask her anything about what had happened in the barrack all day, it was just normal. Thank the gods of Olympus and Hades.

* * *

Good thing that she'd looked before brushing her hair. There was honey in her hairbrush.

She groaned and set it down, doing the best that she could with her fingers. It didn't help much.

Fine. Her hair would look gross and unclean during muster and drills. _Whatever. _It wasn't as if her cohort wasn't used to getting drilled for messiness.

* * *

She was shifting books from one shelf to another, putting them in alphabetical order by the author's name instead of by the title.

She knew that at this point Joelle and Mel were finding busywork to keep them -or particularly Reyna- out of their cohorts. Jason and Reyna still got plenty of training, more than enough, but the two praetors always managed to get them back in and work. Reyna wasn't complaining too much. It was much better to spend time with Jason than the various nutcases of the Fourth Cohort.

* * *

Uncooked spaghetti in her bed. It was creative, and gods knew that Reyna needed it after having the same pranks pulled on her time and time again, but what a waste of food! Unfortunately, she had to throw it out now because it was mixed it with all the sand _also _hanging out in her bed. Clearly whoever had done this hadn't been on the run too harshly going from the Wolf House to camp, or had known what they were looking for. Also the name probably started with an 'A', contained four vowels and finished in 'melia'

She bundled up in a dirty shirt, draped her hoody over her shoulders and slept over her sheets.

* * *

"Hey," Jason called to Reyna. She was sitting on the porch's front steps and reading a book. Hylla had sent it to her. It was written by their father, who had studied ancient warfare. It was pretty interesting. Funny, even, in that warped way that you had of finding brutal murders funny when they were put bluntly. Being a half-blood was damaging to senses of humours. Reyna wondered what excuse her father had.

She looked up.

"Hey," she said. Jason wasn't wearing a purple shirt today, but a plain white one that was clearly a donation, with jeans and shoes that no centurion would let you wear to training. Gwen wore a sleeveless blouse and her hair was down. Bobby wore a button-down shirt. Dakota's jeans were stained.

"We're heading out to Berkeley," Jason said. "For Sunday. Do you want to come?"

She didn't feel like being the loser who went to see the praetors to see if there was any work to do on a Sunday, and did she _look _like she wanted to stay with her despicable cohort?

"I'd love to," she said putting the book down.

* * *

They were heading towards someplace called The Circus Maximus. The lights should have been blinking neon, but they appeared to be burnt. The whole place looked sketchy and condemned as a whole, to be honest.

"Don't worry," Jason said. "It's just a cover."

Gwen pressed her hand against the cold glass for a second before pushing the bar and holding the door open for them. They walked inside and Reyna saw what he meant. The Circus Maximus wasn't condemned at all. It was buzzing with activity. It looked more like a lounge than anything, with a bar in the back, comfortable chairs arranged in squares and circles, a fireplace, pool tables, bright industrial lights…

"_This _is a decent reason to go to Berkeley," Bobby said with a smile.

"I'm hitting the arcade," Dakota called before running off. Gwen chased him, and so there was no reason not to follow.

Reyna ended up being very good at most arcade games, particularly the shooting games (whether it was 'Be a hunter of Artemis with the benefits of men!' or 'shoot from Cupid's bow!'). Dakota, who was too hyper and sucked at most games, gave Reyna his coins and had her win him a bunch of tickets.

Bobby colour-commentated from the moles' point of view when they played wack-a-mole, and made annoying comments like a game show host during games of chance- so everyone shoved him at least three times. They had to track down Jason a few times because he got around and talked to everyone all over the Circus Maxima while they were there. Gwen was bubbly as per usual but openly giggly since they were out of the fort, and she latched on to Reyna's arm and said how happy she was that there was another girl in the group now. That tied Reyna's stomach in a knot, but she couldn't help but lean back on Gwen a few times too. Dakota tried to pick a fight with the guy serving drinks because they didn't have Kool-Aid, but Jason stopped him. There had never been a bigger victory than when two bags of chips fell out of the vending machine at once- Dakota basically screamed of joy and hugged them each one by one…

"We've got to go in about half an hour if we want to catch the bus," Jason said, checking his watch.

"I need to grab something from the bookstore," Gwen said. "No- don't groan- it'll be quick this time."

"Wow, just like last time?" Bobby asked sarcastically.

"Whatever," Dakota said holding up handfuls of tickets. "Let's just go get our prize."

They stood in line and had very intense conversations about all the different gizmos hanging on the prize wall.

"I think that we could get a _load _of candy with all of these," Bobby said nodding towards the tickets.

"We say that every time, and do you know what happens? The candy gets stolen," Jason said. "Nuh uh. We can't do that again."

"What if we got a bunch of those temporary tattoos? We could totally just attack Octavian in the middle of the night. He'd wake up looking like a Disney Princess fangirl- it'd go with his stuffed animals."

"We're not wasting tickets on him."

"We could build up our small army of toy soldiers," Bobby said nudging towards the bin.

"Nah, we're never going to have this much tickets again. Shouldn't waste it."

"Those flashing LED necklaces are pretty hot."

"Jason are you even serious?" Gwen said.

"No, I like where he's going," Dakota said. "We could each get one. It'd be, like, our bat signal."

"Why is nobody talking about all of the mini-mug options?" Reyna put in jokingly.

They got to the counter and the guy counted their tickets. They had nine hundred and ninety nine.

"Are you kidding," Dakota said. "We are _one ticket _away from four digits."

Gwen gasped and turned towards Jason. She poked him in the ribs.

"Okay, okay," Jason said. "I'll take one for the team."

He took a ticket out of his back pocket.

"Man, you're holding out on us," Bobby said.

"It's for emergencies," Jason said giving it to the guy at the counter.

"Emergencies, eh?" Reyna asked him.

Jason shrugged. "One ticket can make all the difference. I always keep one on me. Well, except for right now," he said pulling a second one out of his pocket.

"Two emergency tickets," Reyna grinned.

"I'm so well prepared, people think I'm a boy scout," Jason said. "Here, take it."

"Why?" Reyna asked as Jason put the ticket in her hand.

"For emergencies," Jason said. "Duh."

"A consensus has been reached about the prize, guys," Bobby said.

Dakota turned around from the counter holding a pink and green Minnie Mouse umbrella.

* * *

All of Reyna's hair elastics had been tied together into a giant knot, some of them cut and added to make tentacles to whatnot. Even her bobby pins were stuck in the middle solidly.

She sighed and tossed it back in her trunk. _Whatever. She_'d just deal with her hair all over her face during training and getting yelled at for not taking care of her body by the centurions. _She_ would get to clean the stables, maybe with an electric toothbrush this time. _She _was used to it, after all.

She curled her hand in her pocket, around the arcade ticket.

* * *

When she walked to breakfast and ran into him -still frustrated because of her undisciplined, nonuniform hair-, Bobby didn't let her go anywhere. He steered her right to their table ASAP, and her plate of waffles was right there waiting for her, covered in sweet maple syrup and melted butter. That seemed like a pretty strong statement from the nymphs.

* * *

Somehow she'd been too out of it to realise that while she was taking her place in line for the drill, she had cut Serena from Amelia and Jane. She tried to let Serena pass in front of her.

"I don't need your spot," Serena snapped.

Reyna whispered a sickeningly polite (was her middle name) apology and turned to face forwards. Unfortunately that was right where Amelia and Jade were.

"Rude," Jade sneered.

"I offered to let her pass me," Reyna said.

"_I offered to let her pass me," _Amelia mimicked grossly.

Reyna tuned out. She ignored the taunts, sticking her hand in her pocket. It wrapped around the arcade ticket.

* * *

Reyna's mattress had been flipped, sheets still on, and her pillows had been duct-taped to the roof of her bunk, or even the ceiling.

Now- Roman mattresses were _not _something that the government was legally allowed to sell to people anymore. They were hard as rocks, heavy and generally nasty. You got used to them, but they were impossible to move.

So Reyna gave up on the use-free-time-to-powernap-and-make-up-for-the-nigh tmares like most of the legionnaires did nowadays. She simply walked back outside. She'd find some shade and someone who was playing tic-tac-toe in the sand, maybe a game of poker needed an extra player. She was too tired to do anything but loose, but still.

"Hey," Gwen said. "Weren't you going to sleep? That's what the boys are doing."

"I was," Reyna admitted. Luckily for her, Gwen guessed what had happened.

"What did they do to your bed?" Gwen sighed.

"My mattress is flipped," she said.

"Uh oh. I can help you flip it back."

"Really? You're not allowed in my barrack…"

"Yeah, nor is sabotage. Trust me, your centurions won't fight me on this," Gwen said. "Let's go before too many people hit the hay."

* * *

Mel had highlighters up his nose and was calling himself a walrus.

"When you two reach the age," Joelle said waving her pencil at them, "and when the festivals to Bacchus roll around the corner… don't overdo it like this one."

"Don't," Mel grumbled. "I want to shoot my insides out."

Joelle rolled her eyes and got up. She slipped her arms around Mel from behind, like a bear hug, and hauled him to his feet.

"Come on you big dope," she said. "Off to bed before you puke on an artifact or something." She reached into her pocket and tossed Jason the keys. "Lock up when you finish the filing, alright?"

"Sure," Jason said.

"Send Aurum back to my villa with the keys," Joelle said.

"Will do," Reyna said. Her eyes were prickling with fatigue from the festival's excitement, though she'd bailed out with Jason, Gwen, Dakota and Bobby to screw around town, and then to help out Joelle and Mel with some filing. Also dust, because the principia never seemed to stay dust-free. It genuinely pissed Reyna off, and she didn't even work there that often.

When the door slammed, Jason looked up at her.

"What are the chances that Mel's _actually _nursing a hangover?" Jason asked.

"Very low," Reyna said. "He wouldn't get drunk again- not so close to the last time."

Jason grinned. "Well we all know what that means."

"Gutter brain," Reyna snorted.

"Don't pretend that you didn't think it," Jason said.

She couldn't.

* * *

Reyna's clothes had disappeared. She groaned and walked out of the barrack in her sweats. Sure enough, they were lining the gutter, even clogging it.

"For the love of Venus," Reyna groaned.

Then she panicked.

_The arcade ticket was in her jeans. _

She was going to beat the hell out of Amelia at training today.

* * *

She and Jason were exchanging nervous glances. Things weren't looking too hot in the senate- Reyna could actually _feel _the air warming.

"If Reyna has experience at sea," Mel told the senate, "I don't see why that should be discarded. There is _no _room whatsoever for prejudice or risk-taking in this affair."

"Indeed!" Octavian said waving the poor corpse of an amusement fair plush toy around. "That is why the First Cohort should be handed this important task."

"Jason and Reyna have already devised a plan that seems solid to both Mel and I, and to yourselves until you realised who'd conceptualised it," Joelle said quietly.

"Absolutely not," Oliver said standing to his feet. "I will _not _let Reyna be part of any quest whose full responsibility is not given to my cohort."

"This is not the time to fret about cohorts," Mel said. "The Trojan Sea Monster is approaching San Francisco. In three days' time we can anticipate the entire Bay Area to be flooded or otherwise destroyed- time is not on our side, but Jason can get Aeolus to be. That's an advantage we cannot ignore."

"Reyna isn't even a centurion," Oliver snapped.

"Well you know what," Joelle said. "I've decided that you're not either. Sit down, Oliver."

The protests kind of died down. Joelle was pale and ill-looking in appearance. She was dying at this point- perks of fighting a Titan army whose poisons and medical technology were too archaic for ambrosia or medics to tackle. The shock of hearing Joelle say something that harsh to a legionnaire in front of the entire senate would have been a shock on a regular day, but when she was this sick? When she'd spent the last months speaking in quiet tones and riding Scipio instead of walking as much as she could?

Reyna felt sick to the stomach. Joelle, who'd helped Reyna get past the anxiety associated with kidnappings and culture shocks, Joelle who was sweeter than sugar and tougher than nails, Joelle who laughed at Jason's horrible jokes, Joelle who would break his heart and hers and Mel's and everyone else's hearts by dying…

She tried to slip her hand in her pocket, by grabbing the arcade ticket, but couldn't manage it with her armour on.

Jason, probably having noticed her move from the corner of his eye, reached out and squeezed her hand.

* * *

"Feels weird, right?" Jason asked. Reyna's hand dropped from her centurion's badge.

"My cohort hates me."

"Your cohort hated Oliver. Your cohort hates everyone. That means nothing," Jason said. "Beside, now's not the time to worry about that. We're supposed to leave by noon."

"I know," Reyna said. Her fingers were wrapped around the arcade ticket. She let go. "Let's go get you the power of flight and slay us a sea monster."

* * *

Jason knocked on the door of the senate before peeking inside. Joelle was wrapped in several blankets, her feet propped up on a second red chair. Mel was leaning over a battle map.

"Anything we can do?" Jason asked.

"To help?" Reyna added.

"That's sweet," Joelle croaked. "But we're just going through casualties and trying to see a pattern."

"A pattern?" Reyna said.

"Yes. She think that there's a code in the Titan's army," Mel said. "She thinks, and I agree, that the date, time, gruesomeness or location of a murder could tell us when the Titans plan on attacking camp."

"Genius," Jason said quietly.

Joelle screamed. Her hands flew to her chest and she doubled over. Her legs flew out of control and she toppled from her seat.

"Jo!" Mel screamed. He caught her before her head smacked against the cold floor, and lay her down gently. Her limbs were flailing. Reyna's blood was boiling.

"I'll go find a medic," Jason said before running off.

"I'll get her water," Reyna said remembering how it'd helped on times like these. She was the daughter of a minor river god, after all.

"No," Mel said coldly. They both froze. He was cradling Joelle's head in her lap, watching her with the worst look that Reyna had ever seen on anyone's face.

"Mel-"

"Go look on the filing cabinet," Mel said. His voice was croaking. "She's… she's signed a Do Not Resuscitate Order. The medics wouldn't even touch her."

"We can," Jason said. He looked both distraught and dynamic. "We can and we will help her-"

"Jason," Mel said, pained. "She doesn't _want _this anymore."

"They're still working on a cure," Jason said.

"She told them to stop and concentrate on other things," Mel said. "She didn't want to tell you. She knew you'd react like this. She knows that she's practically raised you."

So this was it. After nearly a year and a half of fighting off the poison, Joelle's system was crumbling. And she wasn't even dying after a blow too big for her body to handle, she was choosing to end it before she did damage to the legion's efforts in the war. It seemed too gruesome to die this way.

Jason swallowed hard and shook his head. "No," he said. He started shouting. "Come on Mel! Do CPR! Do something! She's your _girlfriend!"_

"Which is why I have to _listen _to her no matter what I think about it," Mel said.

Joelle stopped flailing. Mel kissed her forehead. Everything dropped a few degrees.

"Reyna, go get a medic. Don't come back. Make sure Jason gets some air."

Reyna put an arm around Jason, knowing that she'd have to pull him away from his probably dead mentor.

* * *

She felt her stomach tie itself together when her feet lifted off the ground. She fell back and her elbow hit something cold- a shield. She was getting higher. Someone smashed against her.

"Oh gods, sorry," Jason mumbled. The legionnaires were chanting something –their names? The word 'victory'? Both?- and lifting them off the ground. On shields.

"This isn't solid," Reyna said. Jason laughed and held out her hand to help her up.

He was solid.

So would be their praetorship. She'd decided that.

* * *

She couldn't take her hands out of her pockets.

"Really? You're thinking of that at a time like this, after you received your orders mind you?" she said. "The War Games will be postponed. I don't care who has the lead. A _praetor _was kidnapped right out of the borders. That is cause for concern, is it not?"

Everyone stopped protesting.

"Thank you," she said. "Now, if you will please follow my orders…"

The assembled centurions scurried out of the _principia. _Reyna finally took her hand out of her pocket, the arcade ticket scrunched there.

"Come on Jason," she said. "Don't do this to me now."

* * *

"We promise that we'll pick something nicer than an umbrella," Gwen said.

"You can pick the prize," Dakota chimed in.

"Exactly," Gwen said. "We can even stop by that café you like..."

"Thanks but no thanks," Reyna said. "I'm office bound today."

"You said that _last _Sunday."

"And I'll probably say it next Sunday," Reyna said spreading her hands. "I'm sorry, but it is how it is."

* * *

She leaned on a filing cabinet as Grey gave her a brief on the third cohort's whereabouts. When she propped herself back up there was dust masking her fingerprints.

She swore to herself. The place was getting dirty.

Still, what time was there to clean?

* * *

She toured the fort. Usually it only took the morning to do- an hour-or-so-long pit-stop for each cohort, chat with a few legionnaires, the centurions, get the details on any needs that the legion had, any problems, give them the update on how clean their barracks were… also on the search for Jason.

Now it took the entire day. It was boring and tiring –especially since many cohorts offered her to demonstrate drills or maneuvers or participate in duels, which she couldn't decline, and since Octavian was keen on showing off how orderly and efficient his soldiers were and wasting her time with questions. She was going to shoot him one day.

She imagined what it would be like if everything had gone normally- that is to say that October had never happened. She'd follow three and four since they had more aspiring thugs, and Jason would go shadow one and two because they had more smartasses who'd need to be talked politics too. They'd meet up with the fifth cohort, who were pleasant and had that guy who always had a good knock-knock joke to tell you, as well as Gwen, Bobby, Dakota and Hazel. By then it'd be lunch.

She sighed and fingered the old bit of paper in her pocket –the arcade ticket. It was old now, it crackled a bit in her pocket because of how often it'd taken in and out or stuck under a coffee mug or had gotten damp on a rainy day.

Somehow it made her feel okay about having lunch that day.

* * *

"Welcome," Mel smiled opening the door. His apartment was small but clean in that militaristic way that she'd come to associate with Jason. Maybe it was also in part because Mel had few things. The mess on his table was big however- office supplies, papers… only the textbooks made the clutter any different from the one that Reyna had just left in the _principia._

"What brings you here?" Mel said. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy to see you, but…"

"I'm losing it," Reyna said.

"Ah," Mel said. He closed his door behind her. "Yes."

"I can't just tell anybody," Reyna said. "But honestly…"

"Do you still drink it half hot chocolate and half coffee?" Mel asked.

"Yes please," Reyna said. Hot chocolate was wonderful on its own, but until Jason was back she couldn't afford to skip on the caffeine.

He pulled a chair for her and went off to the kitchen. She glimpsed at his papers.

"Psychology?" She asked.

"Yeah," Mel said. "It's long and complicated as Hades, by the way. Don't study that."

"No problem," Reyna said.

"Actually don't study, period," Mel said. "It's stressful and boring and you would pull your brains out from your ears."

"I've actually never gone to a regular school," Reyna said.

"No?" Mel said. "That I didn't know."

"No, I don't advertise it as a rule of thumb," Reyna said. Mel chuckled. "My sister taught me to read, count, name all the states and their capitals…"

"As long as you've touched bases," Mel said. He put a cup of coffee in front of Reyna.

"Too much pressure?" He asked.

She nodded. "I'm drowning in paperwork and I can't handle the senate. You know that Jason was always a better speaker than I am."

"I know," Mel said. "That's why we picked you two as our constant minions. We thought that if you got accustomed to the _prinpia, _if you befriended each other... We thought you'd make a good pair of praetors one day, balancing each other out, working together, being fully-rounded for Rome's own good."

"Seriously?" Reyna asked with half a smile. "This was what you two had been aiming for all along?"

"Oh hell yeah. Well, we hadn't exactly been anticipating a kidnapping... at first we thought that Octavian might balance out Jason with his brains, but Jason grew some of those himself and you came along. Anyways, on the subject: have you thought of enslaving two random kids like we used to do to you and Jason?"

"I have," Reyna said. "But the senate passed the bill against it right after we were elected praetor. Octavian had gathered his goons and convinced them that it meant that the praetors influenced who their successors once, you could hear the bitterness in his voice during that speech. Jason and I were in no position to veto it at the time."

"Suppose so," Mel said. "I remember taking you two out for ice cream. Jason always took vanilla and you always took chocolate, boring and constant time and time again. You were just kids. I don't know what happened."

Reyna shrugged. She didn't know either. It looked as if a few years could make all the difference between losing a friend to a horrible disease, losing one to the gods or the fates or whoever had Jason at the moment, and losing more to time and the shortages of. "Can I ask you something personal?"

"Probably," Mel said.

"How do you manage _not _to miss Joelle?" Reyna asked.

Mel made a face. "I don't, Reyna."

She slumped a bit.

"I manage to miss her less often, and less painfully," Mel said. "Sometimes."

"How?" Reyna said filing that as _good enough. _

"I keep busy," he said waving his hand at his Sigmund Freud books. "I actually enjoy psychology because of that. I read a lot, I got into a bunch of BBC shows, I spend a lot of time at the travel agency looking at all the places I may go to one day. I go eat dinner at little bistros and window shop with friends."

"What if I don't have time for that?" Reyna asked.

Mel shrugged. "Downtime is when I miss her the most."

Reyna didn't have downtime and Mel must have realised that shortly.

"I don't know, Reyna," he said. "I'm sorry, but I don't. I keep busy, and try not to do things like I did them with her. It's hard. Like a complete lifestyle change… nothing feels the same."

Reyna bit her lip. "I'm sorry for bringing this up, Mel. I'm sorry, I know how much you loved her, she was your girlfriend. It's completely unrelated…" She shook her head.

"Is it?" Mel asked. "If it's Jason that you're missing Reyna, is it really?"

* * *

She sneezed. _That's _how dusty the _principia _was. That didn't help her mood in any way at all.

She rubbed her watering eyes and spread her things on the table. Highlighters, building permits from the city, mail of the day, authorisations for leave and family holidays from the legionnaires, weekly reports from the cohorts, a whole bunch of sticky-notes bearing the scribbling of issues that should have been solved in a minute- if Reyna would have a minute… All to read, all to arrange, all to sign. Hence why the last of her supplies was a fresh bag of jelly beans, a box of Twinkies and a large Espresso with whipped cream and a shot of chocolate syrup. Jason would tell her not to eat that much crap and take care of herself, but he wasn't here at the moment (hence the crap as a matter of fact). If she had to stay in that chair until morning then so be it. He'd tell her not to do that either.

Before she knew it Argentum was nudging her awake. Aurum was curled up under Jason's chair. The poor guy missed him like wild- just like Aurum had imprinted on Joelle when she'd gotten elected, he'd always liked Jason better- much like Argentum being on Reyna's heels morning, noon and night.

"Thank you girl," Reyna said rubbing Argentum's head before turning back to her pile. She'd only gotten through five different cases.

For crying out loud.

She kept toiling over the papers, and by 11:20 PM she'd decided that about 34% of the content was ridiculous claims sent in by Octavian _just _so that her job was harder. Fine. She'd just ignore anything with his name on it. That still left 66% of her pile.

She pushed some of the fifth cohort's business aside, they'd understand the wait, and put a halt on the building permits. She'd release a statement about how resources should not be used to expand on New Rome for the sake of luxury with all these odd omens and auguries or the strange monster awakenings later. That still didn't make as much of a dent as it should.

And so she took out the last of her supplies.

The arcade ticket, resting next to the cup.

Swallowing was hard. She looked at it. Usually that relaxed her, brought her back to a place that smelled like popcorn and whose floor was sticky with the residue of spilt soda. Flashing lights and tons of noises coming from all the games, lots of people, bad music in the background…

_One ticket can make all the difference, _Jason had said. She'd started believing it recently, her faith increasing with every time the ticket was plucked and shoved back from and into her pocket, but that belief was now far gone. Now she knew that it wasn't carrying a little bit of paper around like a talisman that picked her up on a bad day.

It was thinking of the boy who'd given it to her in the first place.

* * *

**19 years later**

"Don't waste them," he said pouring the coins in Seth's eager cupped hands.

"Promised, daddy," Seth said before launching himself into the maze of lights and noises. There weren't many people at the Circus Maxima. Traditionally, no legionnaire stepped inside the arcade until Sunday- even if they were on leave- and college-aged New Romans stayed away on Saturdays too. Saturday the place was crawling with families. It was weird how this schedule had been established clearly and precisely, in an unspoken manner.

"Ten _denarii _says that he's running to the Donkey Kong," Reyna said.

"You're on," Jason said leaning back against the unused pool table Reyna was perched on. Seth tugged on his blond hair as he tried to figure out where to play.

"Come on," Jason urged him quietly. "The shooting games. You love the shooting games."

_Be like your father this one second,_ Reyna countered mentally.

It worked. Seth did in fact turn towards Donkey Kong.

"Aww," Jason said. "Oh well. I was close."

"You were _not," _Reyna scoffed. "And I'll have that tenner in cash."

Jason shrugged and put an arm around her waist.

They didn't bring Seth to Circus Maxima for no reason. Play a game of air hockey with him, fuss with his hair in front of all of his friends once for good measure, and then they could head over to the more adult part of the Circus- the soda bar. All the other parents who'd dumped their kids in the arcade, all people they'd served with, were there. There were pool games to play, news to pass around, couched to lounge in, debates to be had, weddings and babies left and right, jokes to be made… Every now and then a confused child would wander in, begging for more coins with two or three friends backing him up. The kids always tried to dart in or out, but legacies were too fun to tease. There was always _someone _that would find a stupid question about school to keep the kid busy with. It was funny how grown-up they could all sound, mockingly or not. It was like that scene in The Lion King, when Simba ended up getting a bath instead of a free pass to go exploring. Jason ritually coughed up extra cash once before telling Seth that that was it, he was cut off after this round.

Eventually they had to beat rush-hour back to New Rome, and so they gathered up Seth and got in line for him to collect his prize. Reyna waited with him while Jason went to start the car. She rubbed his back distractedly until the guy at the counter counted his tickets.

"249," he announced.

"_Styx," _Seth said.

"Language," Reyna said tapping his arm.

"Sorry," Seth said. He was staring disappointingly at a pack of Myth-O-Magic cards- for some reason they'd risen to popularity again. Anyways, the prize was apparently worth 250 tickets (although Myth-O-Magic had been worth a punch in the nose and a toss in the dumpster when she'd been a few years older than Seth was).

"Do you have enough?" Reyna asked.

"No," Seth said. "That's okay. I'll just take a bunch of rubber balls. Lucy likes them, right? I'll give them to her next time that we see Aunt Hazel and Uncle Frank. When are we going to see her?"

"I think that we're all heading to New York for Christmas," Reyna said. She reached into her pocket and handed Seth an extra, slightly torn but definitely roughed up, ticket.

"What?" Seth asked.

"It's a trick that your father taught me," Reyna said. "You always keep an extra ticket on you, in case of emergency. They can make all the difference."

Seth grinned, got his pack of cards, and headed back to the car with a grin on his face.


End file.
